


A Thousand Times

by khalisey



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Cheating, F/M, Sorrow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-07 04:24:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16401266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khalisey/pseuds/khalisey
Summary: I must have called a thousand times to tell you I’m sorry for everything that I’ve done but when I call you never seem to be home.





	A Thousand Times

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired heavily by “Hello” by Adele. I’ve been itching to write something based on this song ever since it came out and finally, the moment is here. Set between the end of S3 and the beginning of S6 as there is a three year leap. Section in italics is a flashback.

_Hello from the other side._  
_I must have called a thousand times to tell you I'm sorry for everything that I've done but when I call you never seem to be home._

__

_Hello from the outside.  
_ _At least I can say that I've tried to tell you I'm sorry for breaking your heart but it don't matter, it clearly doesn't tear you apart any more._

The first number you try rings and rings until you give up so you try another. That one cuts off immediately: “ _this number has been disconnected_.” The third does nothing - not even a steady hum of noise to remind you to hang up. Just... silence. By the time you get to the seventh number on your list, you’re ready to throw the damn thing at the wall but you decide to persist despite the clear indication Dean doesn’t want to hear from you. 

Dean Winchester was the love of your life once. The Sun to your Earth. He gave you life. Gave you a purpose. Your world revolved around him; upending everything to follow him all over the country while he and his brother rid it of evil. It was by no means a perfect life but it was yours. Just to have Dean in it was more than enough to complete you. 

Things changed the night he made the deal with a crossroads demon to bring Sam back from the dead. His days were numbered to a paltry 365, a special spot was reserved just for him in Hell when the time came. It didn’t matter how hard you and Sam tried to find a way out of his contract or attempted your own deals to bargain your way into the pit in Dean’s place. They didn’t want you. You weren’t suitable collateral for Dean Winchester. Not even close. 

Pressing the call button, a tiny coil of nausea settles in your belly as the phone begins to ring. You’ve sat through this six times already but for some reason it’s now you begin to feel nervous. What if he answers? What do you say to the man you haven’t seen three years? How was Hell? Forgiven me for breaking your heart yet? Christ. You had no idea he’d escaped from the pit until a run-in with a fellow hunter told you otherwise. He was only down there for four months but to you, it felt like forty years. As soon as you knew he was alive, you tried to call. You pleaded with the number to work, to connect but it rang off until you couldn’t bear the sound before seeking out the hunter who’d told you of Dean’s release and he gave you all the numbers he had stored not before telling you he was finally living the apple pie life with Lisa Braeden. You were happy he was happy but it didn’t stop the hurt any less. You just wanted to tell him you were sorry. Dean deserved that.   


It was a week before Hell came calling. 357 days passed with no solution in sight and the arguments you were getting into were becoming so ridiculous you wondered what you were even fighting about in the first place. The tension was so fierce you could barely stand to be in the same room as Sam let alone Dean. He had given up, raised his white flag and was ready to walk into the fire without so much as a second glance. He got Sam back and that’s all that mattered. It didn’t matter that you would both have to live without him, didn’t matter that you’d have to spend the rest of your life mourning and that pissed you off. His self-righteous act to do what was right regardless the heartache he’d leave behind. 

The eve of day 357, you stormed from the motel you were holed up in after another argument with Dean about his impending future. He screamed, you screamed. He told you the two of you were done. That was it. Finite. The bar in town provided solace, every shot you knocked back helping to douse the pure desolation threatening to possess you with each crippling thought of Dean. You fell into the arms of a complete stranger in the hopes that feeling someone possess you in a different way would quell your melancholia. It didn’t. It simply made you realise that aside from the fact he would be gone in a few days, you still loved him irrevocably. 

And the moment he saw you the next morning in town with the nameless man, stepping from his grotty apartment, you knew that you had already lost him.

* * *

The phone suddenly clicks to voicemail, the familiar voice you’d almost forgotten vibrates in your ear causing your thighs to tense inexplicably.

_“It’s Dean, leave a message.”_

Hurriedly ending the call you drop the phone to the floor unsure of what you were expecting. You hadn’t expected to hear his voice, so perfectly deep and gravelly, that’s what. It stirred the locked box in your head, shaking it vigorously like a snow globe. Reminding you of the last time you heard it in person and the disgust that dripped from it.

_“How could you Y/N?” Dean shouted, throwing his empty bottle of Jack at the wall behind you._

_“You told me we were done Dean!”_

_“That the fight was, not us!” Holding his head between his palms you can tell he’s distraught. You feel sick to your stomach, the nausea sitting thickly like lead. You try to move your feet but they’re too heavy. Shame moulds you to the spot while Dean paces the room muttering under his breath. Why did you have to storm out?_

_“Please let me explain.” You utter thickly. His hands drop as an exasperated look gathers across his face._

_“Explain what exactly? How you slept with someone else?” He strides towards you angrily, his eyes glassy with tears. “Does it look like I need a lesson in the birds and the bees?”_

_“I thought we were finished Dean. I was devastated. I just wanted to forget.”_

_“How do you think I felt seeing you with that redneck sonofabitch? Don’t you think I wanna forget? The Hellhounds are practically knocking down my damn door and you decide to bring Hell to me a few days early.”_

_You gulp deeply not knowing what you can say to rectify it, the lump in your throat almost suffocating you. What words could possibly reverse such an act? You attempt some anyway._

_“D please, I’m sor—“ The small but firm shake of his head stops your sentence short causing the word to melt inside your mouth leaving a sour taste._

_You watch him as he swallows, a tear spilling out of his eye and trickles down his cheek. “Just go. We’re done.”_

* * *

Dean’s cell vibrates in his coat pocket for the third time in quick succession causing him to tut loudly as he fishes it out, mentally cursing whoever can’t leave him the hell alone. 

The screen dims before he has chance to read the name and quickly presses a button to make it light back up again and he suddenly wishes he hadn’t. 

_Y/N._

What could she be calling for after all this time? Three years had passed without a word and now she’s reaching out? Just seeing her name flicks a switch inside his head casting a painful glow on the memories he’d tried to keep locked up tight. He was heartbroken when he saw her the next morning after fucking her way through the night with someone else but over time, he came to terms with the fact that in her head, she was already grieving his loss and he no longer blamed her for what she did. He almost understood. And deep down, not having her there to witness him get chewed up by hell hounds relieved a little of his sorrow regardless of the heartache he felt for Sam having to live through it. 

When Cas raised him, Dean half hoped she’d stayed at Sam’s side or at the very least was nearby but his brother hadn’t heard a word from her since day 358. Vanished without a trace. Merely a memory now. A ghost.

* * *

The second Dean told you to go, you did. Part of you ached to stick around, to be there when it struck midnight but your heart was already hurting too much. You fled the town, drove mindlessly for days until you could no longer keep your eyes open. You collapsed into the nearest motel desperate for sleep, passing out for three days straight, only to wake at 11:56 on day 364. 

It was as if your body knew. Those four minutes you spent clutching your pillow, the inexplicable raw ache in your chest eating you alive inside out, waiting for the digital display to strike midnight. And as it did, despite being almost two states away, you could swear through your heart-wrenching sobs you could hear Dean screaming.

* * *

You argue with yourself as to whether you should call back and leave a message. No, he’d never return it. He’s happy now, he doesn’t care about you. He doesn’t need to be reminded of the past. But you need closure. You just need to hear his voice and not through an answer message. You want to hear him say your name just once more. Selfish you know but you’ve spent the last three years in turmoil. You never moved on. Never healed, the wounds still as fresh the second you made them.

Thumb grazing the call button, the familiar beep-beep as it rings echoes round your skull, your entire body shaking in fear.

* * *

The cell lights up, buzzing loudly against the dresser as her name appears once more. Dean hated himself for sitting on the edge of his bed waiting for her to call again, knowing that the stubbornness in her wouldn’t let her give up so easily. As much as he tries to suppress it, he can’t deny the feelings he still has. She was his world. He lets out a deep breath and picks it up, pressing answer with immense trepidation. 

“Hello?”

The line is silent for a few short seconds until he hears it ringing in his ear. Her voice. Her beautiful, sweet voice. 

_“Hello, it’s me.”_


End file.
